


I'll Be Good...

by ArgonSwan



Category: South Park
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Bonding over trauma yay, Eventual Fluff, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, One Shot, Poor Butters, Potentially Offensive Language, Slurs, butters' dad is a dick, god they're so cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 17:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18056801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgonSwan/pseuds/ArgonSwan
Summary: Butters and Kenny end up huddled in a closet one night, hiding from the hypocritical wrath of another one of Mr. Stotch's drunken rages.





	I'll Be Good...

**Author's Note:**

> ~ holy shit thank you for your views and kudos. ~  
> Tell someone you care about that you love them. You might have no idea how much they need it right now.

In the darkness, Kenny became acutely aware of the gentle warmth radiating from the trembling body next to him. Like a small generator, Butters’ shaking was almost audible. The faint light trickling through the crack under the closet door was just barely enough to illuminate the fear glistening in his baby-blue eyes. The pale blonde sat, hunched miserably, clutching his knees to his chest in their gloomy, cramped hiding space. Winter coats hung down, framing his shoulders like a mantle, fur trimmings resting like laurels upon his downcast head. With a soft sigh, Kenny also let his head droop. He knew he should probably say something, but he had always been one to laugh off problems, ignoring them until they eventually went away. Or exploded in his face… Kenny sighed again.

He absentmindedly nudged an umbrella with the scuffed toe of his shoe. The plastic rustled slightly, the sudden noise eliciting a small squeak from the boy sitting next to him. Butters struggled to suppress a sniffle. Against his better judgement, Kenny slowly raised his eyes and immediately regretted it. With every stuttering breath, Butters’ protruding lower lip quivered with increasing intensity. Kenny groaned internally, sinking lower as he chewed mercilessly on his own chapped lips.  _Not the time McCormick…_  He chided himself wordlessly, forcefully tying to shove the image of those full, pouty lips quivering around something else out of his head. Kenny gulped. The golden-haired boy knew he was no spring rose, but daydreaming about facefucking your best friend while you’re both hiding from his abusive raging alcoholic of a father in an entryway hall closet was a new low for Kenny McCormick.

Kenny lowered his gaze sheepishly. The condescending titter of what little chivalry he had (miraculously) managed to retain over the years sternly admonished him. Unfortunately, his silent self-reprove didn't do much to aid Kenny in the fruitless war waged against his sweaty palms on the battlefield of his tattered jean-clad thighs. After a few silent curses, he eventually surrendered, resigning himself to clammy hands.

Kenny glanced back over at Butters. A pang of guilt shot through his chest as he watched his friend continue to quake. Even his spiky pineapple blonde hair looked wilted… Kenny’s eyebrows contracted together in concern. He had to do something.

“...you okay dude?”

Butters jolted slightly at the sudden intrusion in the silence. He didn’t respond. Only a small strangled sound escaped from the back of his throat. Kenny resisted the urge to smack himself in the face. Of all the things. Of ALL the lame ass things he could have said. _That_  was what he had managed to croak out?

Butters ferociously tried to blink away the tears that were welling in the corners of his eyes. _Shit._  Now Kenny  _really_  needed to do something. He tugged fervently at the strings of his parka hoodie, mind racing. All Kenny knew was that he had to take action before the waterworks started, knowing full well that after that he’d be completely useless. He was so, so weak to Butters’ tears... But Kenny had to get it together, because crying = noise. And noise… well, noise would significantly decrease the chances of Mr. Stotch passing out in a drunken stupor somewhere before he could find Kenny and Butters’ hiding spot.

Kenny blanched at the thought of Butters’ father stumbling upon them tonight. Would he stop at just bruises this time? Probably not…

Dread sat cold like a chunk of lead in Kenny’s gut. He swallowed the scream and bile threatening to escape his throat as he recalled the day he first noticed that black eye. The feeble attempts to disguise winces and muffle small noises of pain. The lackluster limping Butters had unconvincingly attributed to “tripping” down the stairs. Kenny later found out Butters didn’t trip: he had been pushed.

Despite all this, everyone else just shrugged and went on with their day. Kenny gritted his teeth, hackles rising _. No. Not again. Never again._ The leaden weight in his gut was slowly replaced by a steely resolve. Kenny sucked in a deep breath and lowered the hood of his parka. Heart racing, he slowly stretched a shaky arm out in Butters’ direction; groping around blindly in the near-darkness… until he found the source of that trembling warmth next to him. Kenny gingerly rested his hand on top of his friend's. Butters froze. 

_Shit._

As the silence persisted, Kenny cursed every deity he could think of. What if Butters didn’t want to be touched right now? He had nowhere to escape and the soft-spoken boy already felt like he wasn’t allowed to say no to anything or anyone. Would withdrawing his hand just make things worse? What should he do? Kenny could feel the other boy’s gaze on him. _Fucking shit…_ Kenny resisted the urge to slam the back of his head against the drywall behind him until the back of his skull caved in and he was released from this seemingly endless agonizing discomfort. Suddenly, interrupting the throes of his despair, Kenny felt Butters’ soft, stout fingers intertwine with his own long, calloused ones. This time he was the one frozen in place. Kenny thought his heart was going to burst out of his ribcage. (That’d be a new one to add to the list of ways he has died.) Kenny’s breath hitched in his chest as Butters shifted his weight so he was leaning into Kenny’s shoulder, turning his face so the tip of his button nose rested lightly against the faded orange fabric. After a beat, Kenny hesitantly lowered his head until it was resting on top of Butters'. The thin, wispy hair tickled his cheek. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay.” He said in a wavering voice so, so soft, as if trying to convince himself in that desperate whisper he had the strength to protect this fragile, flickering flame in his arms. Butters gently squeezed his hand. With a sudden swell of courage, Kenny reached out his free hand to cradle the other side of Butters’ head, nestling the other boy deeper into the crook of his neck. “I’ve got you Buttercup. I’ve got you.”

No sooner than those words had left Kenny’s mouth, there was a loud crash, the sound of glass breaking, followed by drunken swearing. Butters whimpered. Kenny turned his head so his face was buried in the pale, blonde, downy hair. He tightened his grip around Butters’ head, in a futile attempt to muffle the heavy, uneven footsteps that shook the ground, coming toward them from down the hall. The tiny closet darkened further as the shoes eventually came to a stop in front of the door. Butters' teary eyes widened in panic.

They could hear Butters’ father call out in a sing-songy voice, “Come on Butters, where you at bud?” Mr. Stotch's light, jovial inflection was marred by the unmistakable heavily slur muddying his words. “Butters~” Mr. Stotch called out again, his voice had lost all but traces of the previous playfulness. It was now flat, low, and dangerous. The stillness between the two boys was stifling – neither dared to blink, let alone breathe. They could hear the man’s growing rage at the lack of response seething into the closet like a noxious fog. “You’re too old to be playing games son!” Butters jumped. “Get your ass out here and take your grounding like a man!” Kenny held Butters tighter.                                                                                       

“You’d be nothing without me. Your mother is too soft, you would have turned into a full-fledged fag without me around to show you that nothing good comes from loving a man!” There was a muffled, drunken, heart-wrenching sob. For a brief moment, Kenny almost felt bad for this man.

“Nothing good comes from loving anyone, Leopold. So just stay safe here at home. Learn from your father’s mistakes. I’ll teach ya so no one can ever hurt me – you, hurt you ever again.” Mr. Stotch let out a dark chuckle. “They can’t hurt you when you don’t feel anything, son.” There was a long pause. “They can’t hurt you when you don’t feel anything! Isn’t that right Leopold?”

Kenny crushed Butters’ face deeper into his shoulder as he felt his friend's lips move automatically, the response ruthlessly trained into his memory since he was a little kid.

"Yes sir.”

 

Kenny felt his heart break.

 

An empty glass bottle clattered to the floor. Discouraged by the persisting silence and the dull realization that he was out of booze, Kenny and Butters finally heard Mr. Stotch stumbling away down the hall, muttering to himself, “I knew I haven't been strict enough... I’ll teach that boy the meaning of pain.” They heard the sound of the fridge opening, liquor sloshing, and a deep belch; followed by more incoherent muttering. Butters flinched at the thumps of his father’s shoulders hitting the walls as the man careened up the stairs. A door slammed upstairs and all was still once again.

Both boys exhaled loudly. They gasped for air, not realizing how long they had been holding their breath. Butters let out a muffled, hiccuping cry and buried his face deeper into Kenny’s shoulder. Kenny felt tears of his own leaking down his cheeks into the other boy's pale blonde hair.  _That man… I’ll kill him._  Kenny thought, seething, vigorously blinking his eyes rapidly. Sweet, innocent, open-minded and open-hearted Butters – he didn’t deserve this. Kenny wanted to scream. But that would make this all for nothing, so he just continued to angrily grip Butters’ head, muttering soothing noises in his ear.

Clutching each other in the darkness of the entryway hall closet, the two quietly sobbed.

 

After some time, their tears wound down to occasional sniffles and sporadic hiccups. Butters rubbed his eyes and took a few deep, shaky breaths. In the lull, Kenny’s own breath quickened as his attention was suddenly snapped back to their still intertwined hands. They were gripping each other so tightly he was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers. Unable to tear his eyes away from their hands - which suddenly seemed so…small - Kenny’s breaths grew ragged.

“Hey Buttercup… I…” Kenny’s voice cracked, unsure how to put his thoughts into words. Butters lifted his head from Kenny’s shoulder, tilting his face to meet the other boy's cobalt blue eyes. They could barely see each other in the faint light.

“Yeah Ken…?”

He turned to face Butters, heart in his throat. For once, the ever-confident Kenny McCormick had no witty retort; no clever quip to diffuse the awkwardness. He was at a loss for words for the first time in his life as he felt himself being drawn into those endless baby-blue eyes.

His heart was surely going to explode.

“I think I…” Again, he trailed off, the words sticking thick to his throat like honey. Kenny slowly gravitated in further, his pulse thrumming wildly in his chest.

He could feel Butters’ sweet breath in hot puffs against his face.

Kenny couldn’t take it anymore. He exhaled an uncertain but desperate breath and closed the gap between their lips. Butters let out a small, muffled gasp, but made no attempt to pull away. Kenny took this as an indication he didn’t need to stop. Kenny moved his lips against Butters', initially slow and hesitant, but quickly turning hungry. Aggressive and sloppy. Desperately trying to convey the emotions he couldn’t seem to put into words. Butters made a few sputtering noises and Kenny pulled back, their lips parting with a loud smack. Butters' chest heaved as gasped for breath and Kenny suddenly realized that this was almost certainly Butters’ first kiss and poor kid had been slowly suffocating himself. 

They both stared at each other, breathing heavily. 

“Oh…” Butters uttered, a breathy whisper. His eyes were glossy, his full lips parted slightly and slick with spit.

Kenny’s heart skipped a beat. “Goddamnit…aww shit Leo, I’m sor-”

Before Kenny could get the rest of the words out of his mouth, Butters cut him off, stuttering for a few seconds before finally sputtering, “Aww gee…” and launched himself toward Kenny, clumsily smashing his face against the other boy’s. Kenny winced at the clack of their teeth against one another's, but giggled as their noses collided uncomfortably. This time, Butters was the one to pull back first, his face flaming. Kenny’s eyes widened in alarm as he suddenly saw Butters’ bottom lip quivering. Kenny opened his mouth but  Butters held up a hand, sniffling.

“T-t-thank you Kenny.” Kenny stared, slack-jawed in wonder. Blinking through tears, Butters beamed up at him. Even after this harrowing night, Butters could still make a face like that. Kenny was in awe.

Butters cleared his throat a few times, but his voice still cracked anyway, “You’ve always been there for me when no one else was. And I’m awful sorry, I feel like such a gosh-darn burden with my super messed up life. But I… I appreciate you a whole awful lot Ken. You have no idea.”

Without skipping a beat, Kenny leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Butters, squeezing him tightly. “I don’t know how or when you did it, but you changed me Buttercup. Your silly sweet smile wormed its way into my heart and now... I couldn’t tear it out even if I wanted to.” He pulled away and grabbed the sides of Butters' face with both hands. “I love you Leo.” The other boy stared up at him, his pale cheeks tinged pink. Kenny felt his own face flush. He glanced away, chuckling awkwardly. "Well... um..." Kenny quickly rose to his feet, pulling Butters up with him. “Let’s get out of here.” He said with a wry smile.

After a thoughtful pause, Butters popped up on his tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on Kenny's cheek.

They both blushed.

**Author's Note:**

> I am often inspired to write by the music I listen to. This one in particular by this work's namesake, "I'll Be Good" by Jaymes Young. I encourage you to give it a listen.


End file.
